


One for All, All for Love

by YurikoNeko (AlaxxisSade)



Series: KKM: Someday We Will Get There [4]
Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Awkward Romance, Childhood Friends, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Friendzone, More Fluff, Mpreg, Romantic Fluff, Somehow, You get the idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-04-01 09:38:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4014829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlaxxisSade/pseuds/YurikoNeko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwendal made Anissina the way she is now. And the way she is now, is obviously not a good thing. So, for her sake and the well-being of everyone in her immediate vicinity, he has to bear the responsibilty... right?</p><p>[Can be taken as Part 4 of the series, or a separate piece... for now?]</p><p>[edit: ...As if.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. And So It Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This couple just gets better and better with every novel in the canon~ And Anissina is one of my benchmarks for best female anime character, so prepare for an essay in the endnotes~ //shot

This is it. I’m finally going to die.

                Conrart, take care of Wolfram for me…and His Majesty… and Mother… and the country…

                Even in my dying moments, I take a second to grieve for my second brother.

                _Splash!_

“Bwaaah!”

               Anissina throws the now-empty bucket over her shoulder, standing above me with her hands on her hips. As usual, her movements are so violent her high ponytail swings at 45 degree angles behind her.

                “Come on, Lord von Voltaire! Surely a few electric shocks like that can’t take you down! Honestly, I’m disappointed in you!”

                I sigh to myself, stalling getting up as much as I can. My head hurts like mad, and my hair is plastered all over my back now. If I stay drenched like this late in the autumn, I’ll surely come down with something, especially since I’ve been sleeping less and less these days, working on that project of mine whenever I got a chance. But I know better than to call it a day with her, or ask for some time to ch-change—

                “A-ah-choo!”

                “Oh, my, are you by chance catching a cold? Don’t worry, Gwendal, I have just the thing--”

                The thing she pulls out was apparently inspired by a device from His Majesty’s world, something called a hair-blower. She seemed very interested in the idea, and recreated an almost-perfect replica, complete with wires and all--

                “N-no----!”

                Only we don’t have any sockets to plug in those wires, and thus they stay naked.

 

I only get days off when I fall sick.

                That’s the conclusion I came to after even Gisela could recommend nothing more than a good week’s rest. On the other hand, I suppose I should be glad that His young Majesty volunteered enthusiastically to pick up the slack. I never thought young people at that age would actually do extra work of their own accord—When Wolfram was that age, all he did every day was try to distract us from our work.

                “What are you thinking over there? You’re on leave, give those wrinkles of yours a break.”

                “Conrad,” I sigh, massaging my brows and willing myself out of the subconscious habit of frowning, if for no other reason than to hear less of Mother’s squeals every time she drops by. “Is it just me, or are youngsters these days harder to understand? I can’t comprehend how a few hundred years makes it feel like a different world altogether.”

                “You talk like you’re five hundred,” the second son smiles, deftly peeling an orange apple. “Personally, I feel Mother’s thoughts are even more confusing than His Majesty’s, so maybe it’s true what they say… A hundred years make a generation gap?”

                That doesn’t sound too right, but my head hurts too much for me to figure why it’s wrong, either, so I just groan and fall back onto my pillow.

                “My, my, that sounds horrible. Maybe I shouldn’t have visited after all?”

                That familiar-yet-not completely similar way of talking… and the characteristic chicken cluck in between. I resist the urge to squeeze my eyes shut and pretend to be asleep as Lord Densham von Karbelnikoff pushes past the half-opened door with only a courteous attempt at a knock.

              “Hmm, you seem to look as bad as you sound. Really, Lord von Voltaire, my sister seems quite disappointed in you.”

                The siblings share more in common than just their fiery red hair, and definitely more than either of them will admit.

                “However, there cannot be disappointment if there was no hope prior. Therefore, Gwendal, I’m afraid you only have yourself to blame.”

                I crack open an eyelid, feeling too tired to take this man on in an argument, and yet my pride won’t let it just slide. “What do you mean by that?”

                “Well…” Densham takes a seat on my bed, setting down his chicken—Minchey the 25th? 26th? He’s been going through them fairly quickly recently, a fact Annissina seems happy to ignore—and accept a slice of fruit from Conrad. “The way Anissina is now, to tell you the truth, is two thirds due to you*.”

                I can’t help but frown again. That’s a very serious accusation to make. If I were to be credited for half of Anissina’s cri—I mean, ‘achievements’…

                A shudder runs down my spine, and I push away the sudden, ridiculous notion to lock myself in a cell and throw away the key.

                “On what grounds do you claim so?” Because if everyone else in the palace decided to place two-thirds of the blame on me, I would probably safer behind bars.

                “So this is what they mean, ‘the people involved are always the blurrest’?”No, that doesn’t sound right, either. “Anyway, Gwendal, do you seriously believe my dear sister was born—the way she is?”

                I give her brother a sideways glance. They had the same hair and eyes*-- and also that same brand of stubborn Karbelnikoff self-centeredness, though Densham’s showed in the way he tried to marry his sister off for money, and Anissina’s in the way she has no regards for experimental ethics*.

                I sigh again. “What did I do to get involved with you two--”

                “You played with us when we were kids,” Densham states matter-of-factly, rubbing his rooster’s comb. Conrad looks at both of us amusedly, having escaped this fate by: one, being completely without maryoku; and two, spending most of his childhood and adolescence wandering the human lands with his father. “Anissina was bad, sure, but you made her worse by being kind to her and never saying ‘no’ properly.”

                “I always reject her!”

                “You protest feebly. There’s a difference. Honestly, sometimes I don’t know how such a large, intimidating guy like you can be such a softie inside.” Yup, definitely siblings. “But—”

                Densham whips around suddenly, pointing a neatly-manicured finger straight between my eyes—not unlike what his sister does. “—It is that very kindness, that convinced my sister she can get away with anything she wants by trampling over weak guys like you!”

                “H-hey--”

                “And now she can’t ever get married, because no other man can withstand her. They either run away to protect their manhood, or fall to their knees and beg for her mercy, both of which are unacceptable!”

                “Then what--”

                “You, Lord von Voltaire Gwendal, have single-handedly ruined my sister’s happiness!”

                “N-now there, it can’t be as bad as--”

                Conrad turns away, clapping his hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking. I glance to him frantically for help, but Densham grabs me by my shoulders, forcing me to meet his gaze head-on—

                “Gwendal. Take responsibility for your actions. For my sister’s happiness, for Anissina, I’m begging you—

                “Marry her.”

                After that my mind goes blank—I think I pass out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so so--! I was complaining to my brothers how overly-sexualized/stereotyped female characters are in mainstream anime (I'm looking at you, Bleach), when I realized Anissina ticks all the right boxes for me! 
> 
> She's not too fan-servicey (large chest, small clothes), but she's not boyish or completely unfeminine either (described as 'petite', and boy, that ponytail.)
> 
> She's not pointless, but she's not the whole damned point, i.e always getting kidnapped - Hero: 'I will protect you!'
> 
> She's strong (literally-- she can take Gwen on bare-fisted), but she's not OP, suddenly bursting out some secret 'Last of the XXX' backstory. 
> 
> She has a purpose, and her purpose isn't a boy (sorry, but seriously, Mikasa). 
> 
> Sure, she's a feminist and puts down men a lot, which goes to show she ain't no pushover, but she knows where the boundaries are, and sometimes, rarely, really rarely but still there-- she can be gentle.
> 
> There's a reason Greta wants to be just~ like~ her~ And because she's special, she needs a special guy by her side. He may not be the most important character in the series, or the most developed, but he's the best guy for her, and that's all that matters, really.
> 
> [P.S I just realized I wrote an essay on the love interest but just one line full of negative stuff about the MC... sorry, Gwen.]


	2. Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I made a promise to you, once. I wonder when we forgot. I'm not sure if I wanted to remember, but...
> 
> Is it too late to make good on that promise now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super delayed update, because my computer refuses to go anywhere beyond social media sites. Don't ask me, I'm somehow posting this with my phone. 
> 
> Ah, the wonders of technology.
> 
> EDIT: ...AO3, for some reason, doesn't allow pasting text on a phone...? Anyway, googled up weird commands that sound like some cult chant and finally got my com running here sdfsdfakg

“Is he still out of it?”

                His Majesty sounds worried, but I keep my eyes resolutely closed, trying to ignore the prick of guilt in my heart. Sorry, Your Majesty. Once I get this mess in my head cleared out, I’ll make it up to you by picking up the slack you obviously left, using your concern for me as an excuse.

                No, Gwendal. That’s mean and unfair, I scold myself. His Majesty’s worry is evidently sincere, as is everything else about him. His escaping from his duties yet again is, at most, a subconscious desire.

                “It’s been three days…”

                Has it? I didn’t realize. It’s not like mazoku don’t fall ill, but the young and the strong don’t stay down for long. The last time I got sick was when Mother fed me all those human ‘delicacies’ for a week when I was Wolfram’s age, and even then I only spent one night bent over the toilet.

                I vaguely hear Gisela rattle off the whole list of causes. Overwork, malnutrition, dehydration, stress, extreme physical pressure—In other words, the country and Anissina. It takes a lot less to break a man. I’m surprised I managed to hold on so long, myself.

                But there’s something the healer doesn’t know, something else that’s been bothering me _after_ I fell sick, thus hampering the recovery process.

                Densham’s accusation and plea continue to race around inside my skull, making my head pound deafeningly and my eyes water. As such, I barely have to fake unconsciousness when the door swings open again, and that dreadful flash of red enters.

                “Hmph, you’re even weaker than I anticipated, Lord Gwendal von Voltaire.”

                Anissina… I have to marry Anissina?

                The thought fills my head and leaves me with no space for anything else. I barely remember to breathe. Me? Tied by eternal matrimony, to her? Forget eternal, I won’t last a year! I mean, look at me now!

                Given, I took a century of her torture before collapsing, but--!

                “You’re awake, aren’t you? Albeit barely.”

                I crack open an eyelid to see her, sitting by my bedside and calmly peeling crabapples.

                “If you don’t stop worrying about things, you’ll never get better.”

                She always knows what I’m feeling, if not the exact thing I’m thinking. I suppose that comes with being childhood friends. But sometimes, like now, I can’t quite get a grasp of what she’s thinking, or feeling.

                “What are you pouting for? You look ridiculous.”

                It’s unfair.

                “Hey, Ani…” It’s what I used to call her, way back when we were both too small to pronounce four syllables and two S’s at once. “I bet you can’t guess what I’m thinking right now.”

                “No, because the fever has obviously reduced your mental and possibly emotional capacity to that of a teenager.” She places a piece of fruit onto the silver plate Gisela left on the chest of drawers, deftly carved into a squid with tentacles so thin they actually looked like they might move. Anissina has always been good with her hands.

                “Just guess.”

                “There’s no point. Your face is flushed and your eyes are dilated. You’re obviously high with the fever. Nothing you could be thinking off right now could be meaningful, and you’ll most likely forget it once you wake up tomorrow morning.”

                “Anissina.”

                “Since you’re not capable of anything productive right now, I suggest that you just go back to sleep and hope to--”

                “Please.”

                She finally shuts up then. Reluctantly she looks at me, and I know the gaze she meets is clearer than she expected. So she sighs, rolls her eyes, and decides to humor the sick guy.

                It’s a victory, albeit a small one, and the flush of it makes me feel even headier.

                “Look at you, red as a beetroot… Fine, so you want me to guess what’s on your mind?”

                “Mm-hm.”

                “Work?”

                I shake my head.

                “His Majesty.”

                “No.”

                “Your brothers?”

                “Wrong.”

                “Shimaron?”

                “You make me sound like a boring workaholic.”

                Her pointed gaze forces me to admit that’s what I usually am.

                “If it’s the cats you’re worried about, don’t. I feed them every day.”

                It wasn’t, but I’m glad she mentioned it anyway.

                “Their food is the one is the blue container, right?”

                …That’s the bird feed, but I’m confident my kitties can hunt for their own food until I get better.

                Anissina is looking at me like a puzzling phenomenon she just has to crack now. “I forgot, you’re not yourself… So you’re thinking like a teenager now?”

                Am I? I don’t really know, but I’m sure I’ll know the answer when she says it.

                “I forgot how stubborn you could be. Mostly because underneath it all, you’re still as soft as a week-old banana.”

                “I’m not soft!” I have to protest.

                “You’re too kind for your own good. It’s the same thing.”

                “I’m… I’m not kind…” That’s the kindness that ruined Anissina’s life, Densham said. I know it makes no sense, and Anissina will probably flail us both if it ever got to her ears, but still…

                When kindness does more bad than good, is it still kindness?

                “When you were a teenager… Is it your mother?”

                “I told you, I’m not worrying—”

                “You used to have a crush on her when you were young.”

                I choke on my own saliva.

                “Sheesh, see? This is why I said you should just take it easy! There’s nothing I hate more than people so ignorant they don’t even know the limitations of their own bodies…”

                Which is really rich for her to say, since she’s the one testing my limits for centuries.

                But when she pats my back the way she’s doing now, I remember that she, too, can be gentle. She’s gentle to the kids. To His Majesty. And, once upon a time, to me.

                She still is, sometimes. If I stopped to notice.

                “Every little boy had a crush on their moms. You were too young to know better, and you were an even worse judge of character than you are now.” Her words are scalding, but not ill-intentioned. “Thank goodness it didn’t last long, though. Conrad said you got another crush when you turned twenty, though you didn’t say who…”       

                Once, when I was younger, I had seen her for who she really was. A sharp, bright, over-enthusiastic little girl whose eyes were bright with curiosity about everything. She pointed at this and chased after that, running so fast I was scared I would get left behind.

                That’s why, I’d promised her, thumping my chest so hard it knocked the breath out of me, if she ever needed help on her journey of discovery, I’ll always be there for her.

                Come to think of it, it really is my fault.

                “Anissina.” I blink the sleep out of my eyes, reaching for her hand. My vision is fogging over again, but I need to stay awake just long enough to tell her—

                “Anissina. When I get older, I’ll marry you, so wait for me, okay?”

                “Hmph.” She catches my hand before it falls, and gently puts it back onto the bed, just as my eyes flutter to a close. “And you say you’re not soft.”

                But her gaze on me as I drift off into sleep is even softer, though she probably doesn’t notice.

                “That’s a very kind lie, Gwen, even for you. Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One thing about writing this, I find that I respect Anissina as a character a lot. That means in every plot I consider, I'm careful on how I treat her as a strong female characters. 
> 
> ...I don't bother as much with Gwen. Does that go against equality?


	3. At Long Last(?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just realized I've been inactive for two whole months and found this lying around, so...

She thought it was a lie. She didn’t even think I was joking.

                To be fair, I don’t joke often.

                “Because you don’t have a sense of humor,” Gurrier points out, bouncing Julie on his knee. She’s almost a year old, which means she’s just starting to crawl and everything within grabbing range must definitely be edible.

                A muscle twitches in my face. “It’s one thing that you always loiter around in my office*, but if you start feeding your kid in here, Gurrier, so help me…”

                “What, you gonna take the bottle from my hand?” Gurrier tosses his daughter into the air, because he knows how it makes me yelp every time, then catches her easily and dumps her into my lap. She giggles, claps her hands and then holds out her arms to me.

                “And if we look closely… There! The exact moment Lord von Voltaire melts into putty.” The spy leans back into his chair, arms crossed and smug satisfaction written all over his face. “Face it, Boss, you’re a sucker when it comes to kids.”

                Now, where did that sound familiar?

                “Anyway, back to the topic. Are you serious about what you said to Anissina-chan? Because there are some things you never joke about to a lady, and if you did, I’ll have no choice but to terminate you for the good of all girls out there, even if you are the best boss I ever had.”

                “What difference does it make? She didn’t take me seriously, anyway!” I would have buried my face in my hands, but when I look down, all I see is my niece’s adorably chubby grin. I have to admit, that does make me feel marginally less stressed out.

                “What she thinks is her choice. What I want to know now, is how you think, Excellency.” Gurrier leans forward, head on his crossed fingers. I think he’s trying to look like those relationship counselors that have been popping out around town recently, but all he manages to look like is one of those shady fortune tellers who have been around since forever.

                “Me? I…” I hesitate. No, it’s not hesitation. I don’t even know what to say. What do I think? “I… I hate to admit it, but I see that Densham may be right.”

                “I wasn’t asking about Lord Chicken-head,” Gurrier says, but only because I forbade him from using his original nickname for Lord von Karbelnikoff. “What do you… No, I shouldn’t say ‘think’. You think too much, and it never comes to anything anyway, in the end. What do you feel?”

                “Feel?” I don’t know. “Guilty.”

                “And?”

                “Responsible?”

                “And?”

                “Hurt…”

                “That’s more like…”

                “…because she thought I was joking. I don’t have that bad a sense of humor.”

                “You don’t have one at all,” Gurrier says curtly. “We’ve been through that. What’s the matter, Boss, I thought you’re in tune with your gentler side and emotions and all that. C’mon. How do you feel about Anissina?”

                “Troubled,” I admit. “But that’s how she makes everyone feel. And respect, sometimes.”

                “And?”

                “And… nothing else, I suppose.” Julie is tugging at my cheeks, pulling them here and there. I bat at her hands half-heartedly, but her expression is so solemn I quickly give up.

                “You’re lying.” I see where she gets her persistence from, though I have to acknowledge that my brother can be equally stubborn as her mother. “I know a liar when I see one, milord.” He’s chuckling. “And you’re an even worse one that the Young Master.”

                “Now look here, Gurrier…” I start threateningly. I’m getting quite tired of people disregarding my words. But he doesn’t let me complete the thought.

                “If you really don’t feel anything, why is Julie trying so hard to make you smile?”

                I blink, releasing the unconscious pressure I was putting to keep my mouth turned down, and Julie promptly curves my lips into an awkward grin, her brown eyes shining silver with triumph.            

*

“He’s hopeless, that one is.” Josak Gurrier walks down the castle corridors with his daughter tossed over one shoulder and playing with his hair gleefully. If it hurt, the way she tugged at his orange locks, he sure doesn’t seem to notice it, striding confidently and thoughtfully.

                “If he doesn’t know… I wonder…”

                Julie starts to slip a little, so he picks her up, lets her ride on both his shoulders, and starts a brisk jog to the labs, led by a string of explosions.

                Technically, with Gwendal out of action and the others all busy with his formidable workload, Anissina shouldn’t have any lab rats to work with. It just goes to show, then, that she didn’t need a subject to wreak havoc. Josak doesn’t know why he’s even the slightest bit surprised. Of course she can cook up a disaster all on her own.

                The lab is filled with a strange rainbow-colored smoke that sort of glitters in the air. It’s unusually pretty, by Anissina standards, but when Julie starts sneezing, Josak quickly steps away from the doorway to let the smoke dissipate before entering.

                “Annissina-chan~ What magic tricks do you have for us today~?”

               Anissina looks up from her test tubes, a little annoyed at first, but her brilliant blue eyes soften when she sees Julie. Josak had the distinct feeling she was looking at Julie as another possible candidate for future Poison Lady, seeing as her plans for Greta didn’t quite fall through. To be fair, she’s definitely glad Greta found her own path, but still. The name of the Poison Lady can’t just end with her.

                Josak finds himself truly glad, for the first time, that his daughter will almost definitely have no maryoku whatsoever. It’s not a guarantee, but it _might_ put a damper on Anissina’s ambitions… Maybe.

                They play around with Anissina’s newest innovation for a while. It’s supposed to be a machine that creates scenes or objects out of colored smoke--- some sort of education game, she explains. Of course, it may also be used to transmit complex signals during war, or for mothers to remind their kid who’s playing in the town square to buy that cabbage before coming home for dinner.

                Josak just holds onto that first and –hopefully—primary purpose. “I can’t help but notice you make a lot of kid-friendly things these days.”

                “As if you’re not a contributing cause.” She looks at him wryly, even as she expertly accepts Julie’s outstretched arms. “I always do what I do for the convenience of the people. You and His Highness just reminded me that kids make a large percentage of that population.”

              “Hey, I’m not complaining.” Josak holds his hands up as a sign of submission. “Anything to keep the little brats busy.”

                “You don’t seem to have a lot of problems with that,” she says, almost murmurs, as she watches the toddler obliterate a smoke butterfly. “She and the little prince have everyone eating out of their hands. Even me, admittedly. And I can’t quite understand why.”

                “You’ll know when you have kids of your own,” Josak says, casually. “By the way, I heard Gwendal proposed to you.”

                “Hmm.” There isn’t much of a reaction. “I thought he would forget once he woke. He was delirious, after all.”

                “No, he was completely serious. He told me so.” Well, not exactly. But close enough.

                Finally, Anissina falters for a moment, just as she’s reaching out for a lever to add to the machine. It’s just a second, though, and it passes quickly. She fixes the crank onto the machine, replying without looking at him, “Well, he said the same thing when we were kids. I’m sure he’ll snap out of it in a while.”

                “Ah, but do you want him to?” Josak’s mind is working quickly. “If you stall off marrying any longer, your brother might forget the earlier lesson and try to force you again, you know*.”

                “You can say that once you’ve finalized it with Conrad. For goodness’ sake, Gurrier, put the poor man out of his misery.”

                “Well, we’re engaged, aren’t we?” Josak shrugs. “The Young Master and the Little—His Highness dragged it on for years.”

                “You’ve got Julie to worry about.” Anissina sounds almost accusatory.

                “Precisely. I’d like her to grow up as far away from palace politics as possible, thank you very much, and a Weller last name won’t help.” He patiently takes the lever out of his daughter’s mouth. “And besides, the whole point is that people know I’m taken. Well, more or less. Didn’t Densham let you off last time because he thought you were in love with Gwendal?”

                “That was a misunderstanding, but…” She’s starting to see his point. “I suppose we haven’t been very convincing lately?”

                “You wouldn’t fool a toddler,” he declares magnanimously. “Now, think about it. He’s going to force you to get married, sooner or later. You could always say no, but then you’ll have him hounding you forever. On the other hand, if you had to get hitched, wouldn’t Gwendal be as good a choice as any? You already have him under your—Ahem, I mean, you already know him well enough.”

                “He’s better than some of the other repulsive men,” she muses.

                “It could be pretend. Just to get him off your case, so you can live your life in peace.” He adds, in a lower voice, “Or it could not.”

                She ignores that last part. “And you say he’ll be okay with it?”

                “Hey, he’s the one who suggested it!” Maybe not in these exact words, but again. Close enough.

                She thinks about it for a while longer, absent-mindedly turning the crank. The machine belches out some magenta smoke and then starts humming a familiar tune. Something His Eminence likes*.“It’s worth a try. Okay, I’ll do it!”

                By evening that day, the whole castle knew that, after a lifelong game of cat-and-mouse, without anyone altogether sure who was cat and who was mouse, Lord Gwendal von Voltaire and Lady Anissina von Karbelnikoff are finally, officially engaged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even remember when I wrote this anymore, much less what the *s were meant to mean...
> 
> Hafta admit, this one's a little tougher to write xP


	4. Shift in the Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We've been like this for more than a hundred years, but now things are about to change... right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't think I'd continue this one, did ya? Be honest, ya didn't, right!?
> 
> ...Sometimes I didn't think so, too. *sob* But here it is, Happy New Year! //that was a week ago

At the engagement ceremony there was a long and dazed silence, because it seemed most people still couldn’t wrap their heads around the idea that _the_ Poison Lady was settling down. The moment the bell chimed to end the event, everyone abruptly unfroze into large displays of emotion, from crying out of relief to crying out of grief—Lord von Voltaire was a good man, once you got to know him.

                That week, rumor has it, little girls all over the world (for the Poison Lady’s books had gained international acclaim) wept and reconsidered their oaths of eternal independence.

                “I was never anti-marriage,” Anissina says when I ask her, the same girl who once called ‘marriage’ ‘stupid behavior’*. Well, we’ve all changed over the years. At least a little. “I just do not believe in a woman’s talents being overshadowed by the fact she is married, as is the wont of this misogynistic society! But you must not think me too harsh. As a matter of fact, I do believe true love exists.”

                It sounds something my mother would say rather than Anissina, but I think I know the reason for this change. Her gaze is inevitably drawn to the other end of the dining hall where my youngest brother and our king think they are having a perfectly normal meal, while the rest of us cannot help but notice how their legs brush up against each other, how they seem to be feeding each other more than themselves, and how they very resolutely look at no one else as they argue softly about the baseball team training regime.

               “As I was saying, such a love would naturally end in a happy marriage, of mutual respect.” Anissina turns back to me, twirling her pasta on a spork. “Or in Conrad’s case, some distant hope of one. I just never thought it was for me.”

                “True love, or marriage?”

                “Both, I suppose. Still, it’s ridiculous to suggest that I would force my opinions on anyone else. I believe in freedom of choice!” She pounds her fist into the table. I know I hear it crack. “Really, when have I ever resorted to _force_ for anything? I manage perfectly well with my wits and persuasive words!”

                I am about to challenge that statement until Densham’s words ring in my head again, and I find that I can’t argue. Sure, many a time she dragged me by the collar, kicking and screaming, but I’m always the one to give in…

                “Stop sighing, Gwendal. It makes you look even older and more depressing.”

                I sigh even deeper.

 

It has been a month since we got engaged… and nothing at all has changed.

                I still get up in the morning, have breakfast, do my work, have lunch, do my work, play with the kitties, do more work, have dinner, finish up the work or almost die trying, and then go to sleep. Rinse and repeat.

                Not that I’m complaining. It’s about 20 years too late for that. But isn’t something supposed to happen after the engagement?

                I make the mistake of mentioning that to Josak Gurrier, and that night itself something… happens.

                “ _What the hell are you doing here?”_

“I’m moving in,” Anissina says, looking at me as though assessing the extent of this morning’s damage. “If you’re not going to offer to help with the luggage, at least don’t stand in the way.”

                “W-wha—why—”

                “Didn’t you want this? Gurrier told me you wanted something to happen between us.”

                Why did he have to put it that way--?!

                …because he’s Gurrier, of course.

                “You’re sighing again.” Anissina neatly flicks me in the forehead, and the headache goes away. As do any other thoughts or sensations in my entire skull. “Or would you rather stay at my place instead?”

                I remember the room she keeps here in Blood Pledge Castle. Both of us spend quite a lot of time here for different reasons, hers mainly being that Densham isn’t quite as tolerant of her experiments as the people here are. Oh, he can’t stop her from doing anything she wants, but he is persistent, and has mastered the art of getting under your skin to a T.

                As for me… Well, someone has to watch the capital while His Majesty isn’t around. Which, believe it or not, is more often than not.

                At least he’s getting better now. I can’t fault his trips to the other side—they’re necessary to his health and his strength*. Thankfully having a kid means he’s less likely to wander across this world and end up in dangerous foreign territory… Until my nephew is old enough to follow him, at least.

                I don’t care, once Shinri is old enough I’m throwing all this work to Wolfram! It’s his job as Prince Consort to be master of the castle when the king is gone, anyway!

                Though he’ll be the first to follow if the boy does go wandering again…

                “Sometimes I think you have as many worries as you do wrinkles on your forehead.” Anissina tosses a pillow at my face. “Relax. Contrary to popular belief, the world won’t end without you. Neither will the country. We did just fine when you went gallivanting off to that prison*, didn’t we?”

                “When I came back, I was greeted by a half-naked Shinou and my doppelganger cousin who was supposed to be in exile.”

                “But hey, the real trouble only started when you came back, didn’t it?”

                For one brief moment, we share a smile. No, it started when His Majesty came back.

                “The kid is a magnet for trouble.”

                “He’s maturing, though. Becoming a dad does that to someone.”

                Our tones are exactly that of fond parents. Me, well, I’m used to acting old, I practically raised Wolfram. But Anissina…

                Our gazes meet, and then we look away again. What Josak said about kids…

                “A-anyway, you can have the bed…”

                “I’ll take the sofa.”

                “…Eh?” Something doesn’t seem right here…

                Anissina has already changed into her nightclothes, and only then do I realize how rare it was for me to see her in those pajamas. No sexy nightdresses for her, of course. Today her pajamas had large, inquisitive question marks printed all over them.

                She looks just like she did when we were kids, with a – ahem—rather… slight… difference in the chest area. But I haven’t seen her like this for so long. Probably because she spends as many nights in the lab as I do in my office.

                “We can share the bed,” I blurt out. Since it’s so rare for her to sleep… I don’t want her to wake in the morning all sore from the sofa.

                She looks at me sideways, her gaze sending a weird feeling down my spine. Somehow… it’s not the usual cold prickle of fear. “I appreciate the offer. Really, I do.”

                And she even smiles, a sincere smile that still doesn’t do anything for that little disappointment in my heart.

 

King Yuuri was taking the engagement surprisingly hard.

                “Hey, Wolf, why do you think they got engaged?”

                “Ask them yourself. Also, have you seen Shinri? He’s hiding from me again, the little punk!”

                Wolfram had finally found a way to scold his child without himself getting scolded in the process.

                “Conrad, about Gwen and Anissina…”

                “Hmm? What about them?”

                “…Never mind.” It just occurred to him that maybe his luckless, loveless godfather isn’t exactly the best romantic counselor.

                His fiancé, on the other hand…

                “Hmm? Your Majesty doesn’t think His Excellency and Anissina-chan got engaged because of their powerful feelings for each other? Eeh—don’t give that depressing, cynical look, Young Master, you look a hundred years older! Okay, then, Gurie-chan will tell you a secret…”

                “WHAT?! IT’S ALL A LI—Mmn-mm!”

                “Shh, shh! Not so loud! And it’s not a lie. They are truly engaged, they swore it in the temple and everything.”

                “But… but they don’t love each other…”

                Josak chuckles. The Young Master is so cute in his ideals sometimes. That’s why they do their best to protect those ideals. Nevertheless… “There is more than one type of love, ‘Majesty. Not everyone is as lucky as you and Your Highness.”

                “Still, marriage is something you do with someone you love…” And his gaze fixes on Josak, almost resentfully. “The ones who should be married aren’t getting married, and the ones who shouldn’t…”

                “…Are just engaged, just like Cap and me,” Josak cuts in. “It’s okay, it’s still all for show, nothing’s gonna happen, alright?”

                He doesn’t tell the king Anissina moved in last night, and even _then_ he figures nothing would happen.

                He’s right, of course. But he forgot one thing.

                Just when everyone is getting used to this not-so-much-of-a-change—Lady Cheri comes home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'll say this piece is REALLY heavily based off the Romero and Argent story (because it is awesome and there is enough fuel in there to sail this ship for another hundred years). Almost any *s that aren't general can be found there~
> 
> And I'll let you in on a secret, I've actually finished this one; you'll see up there it ends in 7-- ahem, 6 chapters and an epilogue, as per tradition (what tradition?). I'll be posting one a day then, and meanwhile I'll be working on the next long part of this series, the one I promised in November orz 
> 
> Back then I labelled it as Part 5 ddfajgjdgs now it's Part 7 what even happened


	5. Runaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when he's beginning to think nothing she does can surprise him anymore...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was hoping to hit 300 hits, ah well~

The 26th Maou is, unsurprisingly, scandalized.

                “You got engaged~~!? Without telling me~~!?!”

                Her shrieks made me seriously consider that ballet-proof glass Conrart was talking about for the castle.

                “Calm down, Mother, it’s just an engagement—”

                “ _Just! An! Engagement! Just—_ ” She takes a deep breath. And another. “Okay. Okay. You’re right. It’s just an engagement.”

                “That’s right, and we—”

                “You’re getting married now.”

                “—don’t plan to… Wait, what?!”

                “Come on, Gwendal!” Mother pulls my hand and I practically fly like a kite behind her as she races down the corridors. Are women always this strong!? “I got to see you two married _now!_ ”

                “W-why?” I am starting to get a bad feeling. “Mother, are you…?”

                “I only stopped by to give all of my lovely boys a kiss, I have to get back on the boat by evening! There’s a festival in Van der Via I simply must not miss, and if you two get married in the ten years I’m gone--!”

                I cover my face with the hand that isn’t being pulled out from its wrist socket. Maybe if I covered it tight enough, no one will recognize me in the middle of this blonde typhoon…

                “Anissina-chan! Where’s Anissina-chan!?”

                If there was ever a question that didn’t need to be asked…

                But she isn’t in her lab.

                “M-maybe she’s in town shopping for supplies?” The bad feeling is back, and stronger than before.

                “You!” Mother grabs a nearby maid by the collar. I say maid, but the female servants around Anissina’s lab are a hair short of professional bodyguards. This girl is twice Mother’s size and meek as a kitten in her hands. “Where is Lady von Karbelnikoff? And don’t lie, I have ways to make you submit!”

                I could already hear the crack of that whip through the air, and judging from the girl’s expression, so could she.

                “M-Miss Anissina… is gone…”

                “What? I did—not—hear-- you!

                As expected of Anissina’s people, though, the girl does eventually gather her guts, standing tall with her head held straight. “Miss Anissina went back to von Karbelnikoff lands, ma’am!”

                “What?” I push in front of Mother, inexplicably frazzled. “Is there an emergency? Did she say why?”

                “W-well…” Facing me now, the girl deflates again visibly. “She was fine until she heard—we all heard—that L-Lady Cheri wanted you two… that is, Miss Anissina and Your Excellency… to get… ahem… said she needed fresh air, to clear her head…”

                “Speak up, woman!” Mother orders, in a voice that reminds me why she was one of the famous Three Witches alongside Anissina, and more recently, Gisela.

               “Yes, ma’am!” The girl snaps to a salute. The look on her face… I can’t describe it any other way than ‘To hell with it’. “Miss Anissina ran away, ma’am! We got on our hands a runaway bride! Ma’am!”

 

If they were honest with themselves, everyone in the castle would say they expected His Excellency Lord von Voltaire to run away, and not Lady von Karbelnikoff.

                If I was honest with myself, I may have to agree with them.       

                “You’re not going to go after her?” Gurrier asks, already at home in the chair opposite mine long before I step into my office. Sometimes I wonder if it’s true he takes naps here when I’m not around. “That’s what girls expect you to do, you know.”

                “Anissina is not a normal girl,” I say, feelingly.

                “But she did a normal girl thing this time, didn’t she? Running away from her wedding and all that.”

                “I—” I got nothing. “Gurrier, why do you think she ran?”

                The spy pats my head like I would a rain-drenched kitten, and I can’t find it in myself to even protest. “Now, now, Excellency, you can’t always rely on me. Why do _you_ think she ran?”

                For some reason, that sounds familiar.

                “I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking you!” I don’t even know who I’m annoyed at anymore. “It’s not like her to run. She never ran away from anything, ever!”

                To be honest, it’s a little scary. I never noticed it before, but she’s always the only thing that scared me. In comparison to her, when I’m with her, nothing else feels scary in the slightest, ever since we were kids. Now that she’s gone, I can’t help but wonder… What could possibly be so terrifying that it could even scare her away?

                “It’s definitely not me…”

                “Aww, and why do you say that? Have a little more faith in yourself, Boss!”

                I give him my most withering look. “Gurrier, do you think I’d make a bad husband?”

                “Why, Excellency, are you proposing to me? Ah, have I finally become part of one of those brotherly love triangles? How romantic~”

                For a second there I thought I was looking at a buff version of my mother, and have to resist a gag reflex. Conrart, so this is why—

                Then the spy gets serious, and I remember that this is the man trusted – and loved--- by the king, the sage, and my ever-suffering little brother.

                “No matter how you look at it, you’re part of the reason, even if you don’t know how. So now the important thing is, what are you going to do?”

                “What am I going to do?” I echo. “Why should I do anything?”

                “—I’m sorry, Anissina-chan, I’ve tried my best—”

                Something about the way he reacts gets on my nerves. He’s acting as though I’m letting Anissina down… again.

                “But Anissina wanted to get away from me, right? I’ll respect that. And I’ll keep Mother off her case as well. I can even c—” My tongue trips over the word, but I recover. “I can even cancel the engagement, if that’s what she wants.”

                If she went as far as to run away… The Anissina who never turns her back on anything… Then this must be what she wants.

                It hurts more than I thought it would, though I’m not too sure what it is that’s hurting. My pride? But I gave that away a long time ago, to Anissina. In front of her, I have no pride, no stubbornness, no dignity. Whenever we clash, she beats me up and strips me raw, exposing my everything to her scrutiny.

                I should be glad that she was the one who left. She saved me my last shred of esteem, at the expense of her own. If it got out that Lady von Karbelnikoff ran away, I would be forever known as the man who defeated the Poison Lady.

                I make sure that only a handful of people inside the castle know. Even the king doesn’t know yet. In exchange for a few hours as her bag boy in the town and a promise to not marry without her knowledge, I get Mother to swear secrecy as well, before sending her off at the jetty. She shouldn’t be back for another ten years.

                I don’t say another word about cancelling the engagement.

                Is this enough?

                Once night falls, I sit up in my bed, waiting for the door to open and a flash of red to saunter in as if she owned the place. In a way, she does.

                Her smell, of smoke and sulfur, lingers in the room. That night, I don’t get a wink of sleep.

                The next morning, when I receive Red Pigeon mail saying she hadn’t gone back to von Karbelnikoff territory, the bone-deep weariness sinks in, twists, and changes into a fire I’ve never known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more updates left~ People don't really like this pairing...?


	6. The Way It's Always Been

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Main story ends here, one more epilogue to go~

I find her exactly where I knew I would, at my father’s grave.

                “Ah, Gwendal, I—”

                I lift her up by the collar, just like Mother did to her bodyguard. Normally it was Anissina who dragged me around by the hair. She’s strong, so strong that it’s easy to forget that the small frame packing such a big punch is a small frame after all. Despite her strength, her body is so light that I overestimate my power, and stumble from the difference.

                Even with her feet dangling off the ground, she manages to grab hold of a nearby tombstone to steady us both.

                “What’s gotten into you, Gwendal? Are you drunk?”

                “I’m not—” I take a deep breath to calm the blood pulsing in my ears. “I’ve indulged you long enough, Anissina! This time—I won’t stand for this!”

                Her electric blue eyes are infallible. “That’s right, this time I’ve crossed the line. I apologize.”

                “That’s right, you—what?”

               My mouth opens and closes like a drowning kotsusuizoku. We’ve known each other for more than a hundred years, s-surely this can’t be the first time she’s apologized to me? Surely?

                My eyes are spinning. I can’t think.

                “I tried this once before, remember? I wanted to use you to get Densham off my case about the von Rochefort proposal.”

                The Romero and Argent incident, of course I remember. I lost use of my sword arm for two months that time*, and had to do the documents with my left arm instead. That was when the rumors about the two of us started, and I thought I would never live it down. And yet… here we are.

                “You were… using me?” My throat’s a little dry, and I laugh at myself. “Of course, like you always do. I should be used to it by now…”

                “So it wasn’t your idea, after all? As I expected, you’re not capable of coming up with something this dastardly.” When she says it, I can’t tell if ‘dastardly’ is a compliment or not. “Regardless, I shouldn’t have gone through with it. Back then we were worried that your mother, as Maou, would order us to get married.” She chuckles to herself. “I couldn’t even to imagine us getting married*.”

                Neither could I. So what is this feeling in my chest now?

                “A few decades later and here we are. I thought getting engaged would be okay now since we changed kings, but His Majesty has another way of pressuring us into marriage.”

                “Is that why you ran?” I blurt out. The words still sound foreign in my mouth. “Or is it because Mother came back? I sent her away now, so you don’t have to—”

                She presses an entire hand to my face, effectively smothering me. “No, no, listen to me.”

                The way she doesn’t listen hasn’t changed, though.

                “I didn’t run, Gwendal, I went out for a breath of fresh air. I thought I told Marie-chan that.”

                I think of the bodyguard, buffer than Josak in a dress. Marie-chan. Okay.

                “I have concluded that what I did was wrong. You are getting old, and both your brothers have gotten married… or something close to it, and you’re just a few decades away from becoming one of those dotty dear old cat gentleman. At a time like that, I shouldn’t have given you any unnecessary hope and played with your emotions…”

                Every word is like a blade to my heart, but I don’t mind. This is the Anissina I know and--

                Wait, did I actually admit to myself that I like this? My face goes white, then blue from lack of air. Next thing you know I’ll be giving her Mother’s whip and getting down on all fours…

                “Anyway, a wise woman knows how to admit her mistakes. That’s why I’m cancelling our engagement. Did you hear that, Gwendal? You’re free now, Gwen—Gwendal? Gwendal?!”

                Too late, she remembers to take away her hand. My vision blackens around the edges, and before I pass out I am aware of her warm embrace, those strong arms that, when put to good use, feel as though they can hold up the sky.

 

On the day of the Romero and Argent incident, I concluded that I would stay with Anissina, my childhood friend and knitting tutor, for as long as I lived, if for nothing else than to minimize the damage she did to the world. I was sure I could do that perfectly well without having to marry her. After all, she already built a pathway from her room in the von Karbelnikoff castle to mine all the way in the von Voltaire lands, right?

                B-besides, I went through her underwear drawer that time, emerging with ears on my head. A-after all that, a man has to take responsibility.

                But there was never any need to get engaged, or married, or anything. I can do my duty from a safe distance. I’m her childhood friend, her knitting student, her Test Subject #1. I shouldn’t be anything more. That’s why we’re cancelling this engagement now. So things can go back to the way they were.

                We’re standing on the pedestal in the Shinou shrine, face to face, with the king, his ministers and half the nobles in town watching us. There are even people crying in the stands, some out of relief for me and others out of fear for themselves. Don’t worry, I want to tell those people, I’ll make sure Anissina doesn’t get to you. Just as I promised to help her get rid of any cling men, as her childhood friend, knitting student and Test Subject #1. But not as her fiancé.

                It would almost seem like a wedding, if the vows we’re reciting aren’t for a peaceful separation. Once the last word is said, the engagement is annulled. We’re back to square one…

                …right?

                Anissina looks deep into my eyes, and I find I can’t look away. It’s different from the usual way she freezes me, like a three-headed snake freezes a germil mouse. If I tear away my gaze now, I feel as though something else, something intangible, will break. Then she speaks.

                “Okay, Gwen, do you want to this here or in your bedroom?”

                “What—”

                “Nah, the bedroom way is too much trouble*, I’ll just do it here.”

                Just like that, in front of half the dignitaries in the country, she pulls my head down into a kiss, then pushes me away before I can react, and slaps me so hard across the face I taste blood, the sound echoing over and over in the shrine hall, even blocking out the two words she calmly says with those naturally rosy lips*.

                That’s _it!_ For her to humiliate me like that, in public—

                I raise my hand, but I can’t bring myself to hit her. Mother taught me never to raise a hand to girls as a child, and the idea of how she would punish me now…

                No, my hand is already raised, and I should be worrying about what Anissina will do to me instead, the Red Devil—

                The Red Devil’s eyes are pooling with tears.

                It’s like all rational thought has been blown out of my head with a whump. My upraised hand falls, trembling, to touch her face with a bit more force than I intended in my panic. The sound it makes against her supple skin is faint, but distinct.

                Before I can ask her why she’s crying, the tears are already gone and a crafty smile, full of the same self-absorption I’ve come to know, has taken its place.

                The crowd erupts behind us. And the last thing I think is,

                Damn my brother and his boyfriend for bringing this ancient trend back. I would have preferred the traditional window proposal ceremony*.

 

“I wanted to propose to you properly this time.”

                So the two words she said that time were ‘Marry me’, and it seems everyone heard them except me.

                “Still, I never thought you would accept so easily.”

                “You planned it!” I still remember her expression, her eyes all teary… It sends a chill down my spine, but something warm curls up in my stomach. “I had no time to react, and even if I did, how could I say no?”

                “Just say ‘no’,” she says, still so composed it’s infuriating. “You can still say ‘no’. I think people would be used to me cancelling engagements by now.”

                She’s saying it normally, she’s just saying it like it’s nothing… But I know when my heart pricks a little for her that it’s too late for me.

                “…That was my first kiss, you know.”

                “It was mine, too.”

                “I’m not cancelling this one.”

                “Let’s get married before your mother gets back.”

                “You…” I’ve run out of words. “What will do with you?”

                “Don’t talk to me like I’m your little bride! You’re my bride, got it?”

                “Okay, okay…”

                “I’m not going to wear a corset* again, even for the wedding.”

                “Mother will make a fuss.”

                “That’s why we’re getting married before she gets back.”

                I’ll regret this. “Whatever you say.”

                “And…” She leans, just a little, into my chest. Her arms are still crossed, so it doesn’t feel romantic at all. “From now on… I’ll be relying on you.”

                _“I cannot always rely on you, Gwen.”_

_“I’m the one most familiar with you, am I not?”_

                Those are the words we have been repeating, over and over again, forever*. Whenever she’s in over her head, I’ll come to her aid, even if she never asks for it. Densham was right.

                But now, just a little, things have changed.

                I sigh. It has been this way since we were children, so I will never hand her over to anyone else.

                “I’m the most familiar with you, am I not?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning part is a sort of weird head-canon of mine from the Father's Day series...
> 
> But seriously, though, once you reach the end of the short story, can anyone, I mean, ANYONE not ship this couple?? This is as canon as it gets, people!


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After marriage, the next logical step is...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hands-up if you saw this coming~

“Let’s have a child.”

                A month after the wedding, Anissina says that to me while in her pajamas.

                After a month of living with her, day in and day out, I get the feeling nothing she says will surprise me anymore. In fact, it’s never been a surprise at all that both of us want kids. But—

                “Can you stay away from the lab for an entire year?”

                “Come now, Gwendal, my experiments are entirely—”

                “No.”

                And that would have been the end of the conversation, if Conrart hadn’t asked me about it again the next morning at breakfast. I replied with the same question, and he immediately fell quiet.

                When I went to office, His Majesty asked me the same thing; at lunch, it was Wolfram; during the afternoon, Josak came to my office just to ask me if I was going to start a family.

                I finally snap during dinner.

                “What does it have to do with all of you!?”

                My niece answers my question for me, crawling up my pant leg and looking at me with my brother’s eyes. “Unca Gwen, cousin?”

                Shinri pulls my other pant leg and says solemnly, “Julie wants someone else to play with.” He looks a little desolate, but a bit hopeful at the same time.

                So do you, right? But I can’t bring myself to scold a child, so I look at his parents instead.

                Wolfram shrugs. “We’re already trying. Besides, the more the merrier, right?”

                That’s news to me. And when he says the more the merrier… I look down at my adorable nephew and niece, trying to imagine a few more of them, maybe even a few with my eyes or Anissina’s flaming red hair…

                “No!” I shake my head. If I let them convince me into this, I’ll spend an entire year worrying over everything Anissina does even more so than I do now! I’ll have a nervous breakdown in three months, definitely!

                “Cousin…” Julie sniffs. I bet her mother taught her that word.

                “Don’t look at me, I’m not going through that again,” Josak immediately passes up on all responsibility. “You just gotta deal with it, Julie, and enjoy being an only child.”

                Looking at the big fat tears rolling down his daughter’s face, Conrart visibly hesitates. “Maybe I should—”

                “No!” Almost everyone yells at the same time, so deafening Julie forgets to cry. Now her father is the one who looks like he wants to cry, instead.

                “Am I that unreliable…”

                “Face it, you’ll stand in between any of us and the first enemy we see,” the king says, showing remarkable insight into my brother’s personality. As expected of his godson.

                “Well, Wolfram and Josak did rash things, too…”

                We all fall silent as the truth of those words sink in. Already I can my imaginary nephews and nieces disappearing like clouds. Kids are great, but if we’re talking about a repeat of Shinri’s or Julie’s births, it’ll probably shave a few more centuries off their fathers.

                “If you want to talk about who would be the most reliable mother…”

                I don’t know who said it, but soon everyone is looking at me.

                Conrart sighs. “Too bad Gwendal can’t…”

                “Why not?” The king asks.

                “Yuuri, a man cannot... with a woman…”

                Anissina looks annoyed, but it’s the truth—

                “Eh? So if it’s something like a test tube baby, that might work?”

                A what? A baby grown in a test tube? Somehow the thought chills me to the bone. Or maybe that’s just the sudden gleam in Anissina’s eyes.

                “In vitro fertilization, huh?” The Sage suddenly speaks up, and all eyes are on him. There’s a mysterious smile on his lips that I really don’t like. Was he always this… sly-looking? “Good idea, Shibuya. Lord von Voltaire, would you want to try?”

                W-why is he asking me?

                “Something to do with test tubes and babies… You should ask Anissina, right?”

                “Tell me more about it, Your Eminence!” Anissina is holding the Sage’s hand with both of hers, madness in her eyes. And I figure that it’s a bad idea to ask Anissina, too.

 

I started regretting it as soon as Anissina stuck it up there. On the bright side, the agreement was that the trip would be my last time in the lab for at least the next year.

                Anissina agreed, for the sake of the future Poison Lady. None of us really believed her, though, so the rest of the castle volunteered to push me to the very end of the test subject list.

                That’s right. The whole castle knew.

                I wanted to hide in my room for the rest of the year with my kittens, and the king actually gave me that long a leave, saying he was old enough to handle his business now, and I was free to go back to the von Voltaire territories.

                But once I was back in my castle, I immediately got lost in all my work as head of the clan. As I thought, a lot of it piled up while I was away…

                Before I knew it I had missed dinner and Anissina came out of my drawer* to fish me out from the mountains of documents, loudly proclaiming to what felt like the entire territory what kind of a ‘delicate situation’ I’m in and any matters anyone needed to see me for could go to her instead.

                After that the year couldn’t pass by fast enough.

                If I said I didn’t enjoy her letting me have my way more often, I would be lying. In that year, I actually got to yell at her, and she wouldn’t yell back or say anything more sarcastic than “it’s the hormones”. When eventually I come back to my senses and apologize, like a man would, though, there’s something about her expression that makes me think she enjoys putting up with me, too.

                It’s as though she’s letting me win these fights because it’s funny… That deflates me a bit.

                And of course, her tolerance came with a price. In exchange for only performing her experiments in a cabin on the other side of town, and not using any chemicals or materials that could be hazardous in gas or liquid form, as well as taking a thorough bath before coming to bed every night (all her own conditions)… She got the deliver the baby herself.

                W-well, since she was the one who put it in there in the first place… Plus I couldn’t for the life of me think of anyone else…

                A year later, our baby was born into her arms.

                The baby looked exactly like her, too, inheriting all the beauty that even Densham admitted could have scored her any man she wanted as long as she kept her mouth shut*. That blazing red hair, those brilliant blue eyes, those naturally rosy lips… The only thing he didn’t inherit from her, was her gender.

                “It’s… a boy.”

                Pretty obviously, too.

                She looked disappointed, she said as much, but when she took him into her arms, she looked at him the same way Wolf looked at his kids.

                She just needed to look elsewhere for her heir, that’s all.

                We named him Vincent, and soon enough it becomes clear that he didn’t get his personality from her, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand that's the end of Part 4, folks! On to Part 7, where there's still a lot of this couple~ <3


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